Page 107 of Stealing Blinds

This won’t be the first time she’s sucked me off, but it’s always been on her terms.

I coil her hair around my fist, yanking enough to further illustrate the shift between us. “You are my queen and my slut, but the most important part of either is that you’re mine. So, show me.”

Her chest heaves for a moment, and I’m starting to understand those hesitations are as much about trusting herself as they are about trusting me. We’ll work on that too.

Finally devoting herself to the task, she undoes my belt and zipper and rolls my boxer briefs down, reaching for me the second my painfully hard cock springs toward her, fringed by my shirttails.

“No.” I capture her wrist. “Hands on my thighs and eyes on me.”

She does as she was told, but she notes the precum dripping from the head, and her mouth pops open. Salivating. That’s enough to have my knees unsteady. Her thirst for me is everything I’ve dreamed of, but never truly understood. Before her, I was stuck in an illusion, believing more would cure the ache, that abundance was winning. All the while missing the magic—who fucking knew her perfection existed?

I paint her lips with the leaking tip, and when her tongue darts out to lick them clean, I change my mind, scooping her into my arms, pinning her against the wall, and plunging inside her wet pussy in one punishing thrust.

She whimpers from the force, locking her ankles behind my ass and taking my fury pump after pump. So wet for me.

A rack of my belts plummets to the floor with a jangle and the shelves around us rattle, but my pace doesn’t falter. And once again, I am dizzy and undone by the potency in which her cunt throttles my shaft, by the wholeness her arms extend, and by the drive to chain her to me until the end of fucking time. I crash my mouth into hers, fueled further by the taste of myself on her tongue and her unabashed pleasure at being ravaged.

“Who do you fucking belong to, Sylvie?”

“You,” she pants.

“And who do I belong to?” I move my hand back to her throat, my unforgiving cadence never abating.

A few more drops of her anguish and hope track down her cheeks, her astonishment from the question causing her limbs to quiver, but she finally puffs out a strained, “Me.”

“That’s my girl.” Thrust. “People do not fucking steal from us.” Harder. “Not our joy.” Slam. “Or peace.” Again. “Not each other.” Pump. “Or our future.”

She nods on a shuddered breath. I drive into her again and again, my apadravya piercing etching her G-spot, my Jacob’s ladder branding her inner walls, my lower abs rubbing her clit. Her lashes flutter, but she keeps those gorgeous eyes on me. And when she moans, gyrating her hips and scoring my shoulders with crescent moons, I know she’s announcing her impending peak, so I need to finish this.

Another merciless thrust punctuates my final question. “Do we give up when things are hard?”

Her eyes are hooded. She’s so fucking close, but my strong girl shakes her head. “We fight.”

“That’s right. I am not something you quit.” I lock on to her ambers, silently imploring her to hear the weight of my words. “You are my way through the goddamn flames, Sylv, and I am yours.”

Despite her rapturous state, she heeds the significance of that proclamation, sliding her hand over my cheek to assure me. That’s something, but I’m not done. Sensing she’s about to come, I pull out and return her to rest between my feet.

Fuck, she’s radiant. Flushed and vulnerable, strong and pliable.

Allotting her only a moment to catch her breath, I fist her hair and shove inside her, using her mouth as my own personal fucktoy. “You taste that? Your delicious pussy coating my cock? That’s us.”

She murmurs her agreement, complying with my previous order and holding on to my thighs for dear life. Her pupils blow wide, but she never falters, even as she combats an occasional gag reflex. And the vibrations from her exultation surge through my shaft, drawing up my balls and zipping up my spine.

I whip myself out of her, seconds from my release.

“Tongue out,” I order.

She obeys as I stroke my dick to the tempo of the ecstasy swelling in me. Ropes of cum stream toward her, landing in her mouth and on her breasts and stomach.

Jesus, she’s a beautiful fucking sight.

“Swallow what’s in your mouth. That—the flavor of you and me—is the taste of triumph.” Bending down, I swipe two fingers through the valley of her breasts, smearing the remnants of me and drawing a symbol.

She turns toward the mirror, noting the dollar sign with a coy grin, and her gaze rises to mine in the reflection. “Dirty Cash.”

Matching her expression, I release an unbidden chuckle. “Exactly. Mine.”

She spins back to me and drags two fingers through the cum on her taut stomach. Holding them up with arrogance that tells me she knows this is making me feral again, she sucks them clean with a provocative hum. “That’s a currency I can get behind.”